Those Three Words
by jk-salmeier
Summary: She wanted her 'I love you' to have its own significant moment away from the danger and urgency of war. She wanted her love to be said at a moment of tranquil pleasure, just the two of them, simply said away from the chaos of outside forces. Post-DH.


Harry and Ginny sat in comfortable silence under the canopy of the old oak tree in the back garden of The Burrow that stood close to a nearby pond. Ginny liked this spot; it was the perfect distance away from the house, not too far, but far enough to get some much needed privacy when the confines of the Burrow became too much. This evening the parting sun painted the blue sky in swirls of pink, orange, and purple. It was a perfect spot to watch the sunset.

She sat up against the tree trunk while Harry lay his head in her lap prompting her to began massaging his scalp. It was a routine they established after their first evening at the Burrow a month ago. It was a place they could go to get away from the raw grief that still gripped the Weasley household. On that first evening after dinner Mrs Weasley started crying while washing up the dishes. Ginny saw Harry staring at her mother on the verge of saying something, but words seemed to fail him.

The deeply remorseful look on his face prompted her to take Harry by the hand and force him outside to the pond. She held him there under the old oak tree for what seemed like hours, but she didn't care. She stroked his back gently, whispering to him 'It's not your fault, she knows it's not your fault' over and over again until his tense muscles began to relax and his breathing became calm and even. Days like that were few and far between, but when they came she would leave him alone in the back garden to brood and sort through his thoughts before going after him.

She looked down at Harry who had his eyes closed and was slowly succumbing to the massage she couldn't but smile as Harry relaxed at her touch. He looked so peaceful and content in her arms.

She began to feather his neck and arms with the pads of her fingers until she was satisfied by the goosebumps on his arms.

"Stop it," Harry said as a grin played across his face.

"What, I'm not doing anything." Ginny answered innocently. She loved to watch his body react to her touch.

"Liar, you're giving me goosebumps."

"You weren't complaining yesterday." She feathered his arm one more time before resuming with the scalp massage.

Her other hand started to wander to the side of his neck where she could feel his pulse gently beat beneath her fingers. It was a very comforting feeling to her. A gentle reminder that he had survived a task others thought impossible. She lightly caressed his face with the back of her hand, but always trailing back to his neck. Every stroke of her hand was slow and deliberate. What was the rush; they had all the time in the world.

It was such a contrast to the first time they were together. In those 20 days of being Harry Potter's girlfriend she lived in the moment with him from sunrise to moonrise. It was fantastic not knowing what the day would bring when they were together. Of course, a rushed attitude like that often lead to the many heated make out sessions near the lake under the beech tree; or the ground floor broom closet and sometimes, if they were lucky, an empty classroom.

They never did anything more then kiss. Ginny was certain if they did decide to go any further in their relationship all six of her brothers would flay Harry alive not to mention her mother would kill her. She took his glasses off while his eyes were closed, folded the arms and rested them in the v-neck of her shirt. Harry opened his eyes as she did this.

"Hey, I can't see."

"Not even when I'm this close to you?"

"Actually," he squinted before answering her question. "You're just a blob with some red 'round."

"Gee Harry I hope our kids-." But she stopped in mid-sentence catching her slip-up.

A smile played on Harry's face. "You hope our kids what?"

"It's nothing."

"No, its not nothing tell me. I want to know."

At that moment Ginny felt odd talking about the future with Harry, when it was usually a topic they intentionally avoided. It was one of those unspoken pieces of conversation that danced in the back of her mind, and never came out of her mouth. Because she knew deep down there was that slight possibility that her future didn't include him and it scared her to death. But every now and again she would let her mind wander and she would see herself and Harry with three kids all with his beautiful green eyes.

"Please Ginny," Harry asked softly. "You hope our kids what?"

She continued to fight with her thoughts for a bit, struggling whether to answer his question or change the subject. But the sincerity in his voice convinced her that changing the subject would be a bad idea. Harry wasn't exactly an open book, more like the tough to keep open hard cover variety, but not today. There was something freeing in talking about the future, their future and she could see that freedom in his eyes. The future was no longer this intangible thing, or a hopeful possibility hovering over their heads out of reach. It was there waiting to be explored and wanting to be fulfilled and the best part was there was no need to rush the present.

"I hope our kids look exactly like you."

"Skinny with messy hair?" Harry snorted.

She gave a soft laugh. "Yes, every bit like you." She emphasized her point by running her fingers through his hair.

"Tell me, how many kids will we have?" Harry sat up next to her, his interest piqued. She handed him back his glasses before answering.

"I hope we have three, two boys and a girl. All with your eyes."

"Poor things, they'll all be blind as bats. No, I hope they all look like you."

"Freckly and pale, you're having a laugh?"

"No, beautiful just like you." He whispered and then kissed her. "With flaming red hair and bright brown eyes."

"You're sweet, but my eyes are boring. They're just brown."

Harry turned to face her and looked into to her eyes.

"Not just brown, they're beautiful." Ginny smiled as Harry brushed her fringe with his finger to get a better view of her eyes. "The first thing I ever noticed about you was your eyes. There's kindness in them, and some days there's mischief. When you're sad they get darker, when you're angry they brighten, and when you're happy the gold flecks in them stand out.

"I can look in your eyes and more times than I can count you know exactly what I'm thinking and feeling. Maybe that's why I love you so much."

"What," she said breathlessly. The L word seemed to catch her off guard as well as Harry's sudden openness. She wished her response had been more eloquent.

Without skipping a beat Harry continued, "I love you, Ginny. I always have. I know I should have said it so-"

But whatever he was going to say she didn't let him finish, in her opinion, his lips needed to be kissed and at that moment they never tasted so sweet. It was the very first time he had said that he loved her. She knew he loved her. From the day they were first together and throughout those months they were apart there was never a doubt in her mind of his love for her. He never had to say it; it was always in a look he gave her when their eyes met across the room; his gentle touch when he held her and always in the everyday little things he did for her that others would think insignificant. But all the same it was great to finally hear it.

After several glorious minutes the two eventually came up for air.

"I love you too, Harry." Ginny whispered as she rested her forehead against his. He kissed her one more time before repositioning himself next to her against the tree truck. She looked down at there clasped hands and smiled.

She knew why he never said those three words before now. It was for the same reason she never said it to him. She didn't want her love to be said in haste or used as a good luck charm when they parted. She wanted her 'I love you' to have its own significant moment away from the danger and urgency of war.

In a way, saying it or hearing it in those dark times felt like a death sentence to her. She didn't want it to be the last thing he said to her and she didn't want it to be the last thing she said to him. She wanted her love to be said at a moment of tranquil pleasure, just the two of them, simply said away from the chaos of outside forces.

After sitting in comfortable silence under a canopy of stars Harry broke the silence.

"What are you thinking about?"

A shy smile broke across her face. She could feel it grow hot and knew she was blushing. It felt like a childish thing to say but he had been open with her, it was only fair she be open with him.

"I got my 'I love you' the way I wanted."

Harry smiled. "Me too. I wish sometimes I'd said it sooner, but I guess…I guess I was afraid if I said it once, I wouldn't be able to say to you again."

"I'm glad you waited."

Harry looked at his watch. "It's getting late. We should go back inside."

"Yeah, we should," she sighed.

They walked hand in hand back towards the house. As they entered through the back door the kitchen and sitting room were empty. Ginny suspected everyone must be off to bed. They walked up the stairs stopping to part ways in front of her bedroom door. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist while she draped her arms around his neck pressing her breasts against his chest. He alternated his gaze between her lips and her eyes before succumbing to the temptation and kissed her.

"Good night Ginny."

"Good night Harry."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Harry gave her one last longing look before heading to the room he shared with Ron.

She closed the door and lay on her bed content in the knowledge she would get to say those three words to him and hear them said back to her every night before she went to sleep.


End file.
